


Lesbomancy

by Airie



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comedy, Drunk Sex, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Lesbian Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8326498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airie/pseuds/Airie
Summary: You know that "sober friend drives drunk (and horny) friend back home" trope? Yeah, this is one of those stories. Mercy x Tracer. Halloween party setting.





	1. the Party is Over

"Cheers, loves! The alcohol is here! And sorry I'm late." Big Ben announced, entering the room straight out of the October chill

Well, not the actual Big Ben, but Tracer, dressed as the monument. Her chronal accelerator, protruding under the cylindrical costume, illuminated the face of the clock, both dials set on 12. 

"Nice." Ana praised, taking sacks with bottles from the new guest. "You come on right in, everyone's here."

"Hey, Jesse! Guess what time it is? " She asked McCree (who for this occasion dropped the cowboy getup for a monster hunter costume), pointing at the two dials on her chest. 

"It's…"

"Midnight!" She cut in, giving him her signature giggle. "What's with all the glass?" She asked, noticing the shards that weren't cleared out yet.

"Reyes made his grand entrance." Jesse explained with a snicker. "Should have seen the look on Rein's face."

The bash was at that stage where guests divide into small groups and scatter all over the house. But that didn't discourage Lena from heading straight into the kitchen, the heart of every houseparty.

\---

"By the way, nice costume, Gabe. Did your mother sew it?" Jack teased, reaching into the fridge for another bottle of lager. After tasting European brews he promised himself to never drink American swill again.

"Actually, I made it myself. I like yours, though. Very accurate representation of a mid-life crisis." Reyes replied nonchalantly, sipping on his third vodka. 

"Ouch. Don't drag me like this, pumpkin." Morrison saved face.

"I can drag you to my place if you'd like." The other offered. " I'm feeling charitable tonight. Everyone knows you need some, so I'm willing to take one for the team." 

"Don't." Jacked warned, conjuring all his authority as the strike commander. But the way his eyes averted from his old friend betrayed he was giving the offer a thought.

"Hiya!" Tracer materialized between them, cutting their conversation short. "Whoa, great costumes!"

"Big Ben! Wasn't expecting that. Great idea." Jack praised inspecting her costume.

"I made it myself." Tracer said proudly.

"It's… not bad." Gabe joined in. For a split second he sounded… friendly. "I'm off for a smoke." He then declared, leaving the kitchen before he got too pleasant.

"We have a code red." Ana warned, entering just as Reyes left. "Our doctor overdid the punch."

"Just like last year." Jack sighed. "Where is she?"

"I left her on the balcony to get some air." Ana sighed. "Someone needs to take her home, though."

\---

"Shit. Code red." Gabriel realized, finding Angela sitting on the cold tiles, rocking back and forth. "You ok?" He asked as casually as he could, lighting his deathstick. "You shouldn't be sitting out here like that." He nagged, helping her get up.

The witch costume was amazing. Looked fine on the doctor, perfectly suited her figure, unlike the weather. She must have made it herself, but it was obvious it took a lot of time and dedication. 

"Thank you. I hadn't had the chance to tell you how much I love your costume." She hummed. "I'm glad you came this year." She confessed, looking at him warmly. Her pupils weren't focused at his face, though. Yep, she was hammered. "You weren't with us last year." 

"I had work. Classified." He tried to avoid deeper conversation.

"I know." Mercy frowned. "It's just… We don't get together, the whole group, as much as we used to, you know?"

"Time flies. Things change." 

"Blödsinn!" The good doctor was about to elaborate, but instead she swooned like a damsel. He had no other choice but to grab her, lest she topples over the railing.

"My devious plan failed." She confessed, leaning on him. "I was hoping to seduce you tonight."

Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps the part of Reinhardt's story about the witch and her undead servant (a bit creepy, but still hot), which made her really horny. The way you could only be after a Halloween party. That special kind of seasonal sluttyness you just wanted to share with someone.

"Come on, Gabe. You can do it. Breathe in, breathe out, say 'no' and leave with Morrison." The voice of reason squeaked faintly somewhere in the back of his head. "She's so vulnerable, don't be a dick!"

"To hell with Morrison! Take the doctor home!" The more devious voice roared somewhere closer. "At this state she'll be up for anything!"

"You… don't want to, right?" She took his silence as refusal. 

"Normally I'd be all over you." He quickly assured, getting a grip of himself. "But we're too drunk to have any real fun." 

That was a half-truism. He was barely tipsy. She was wasted. He was in the mood for some more rowdy fucking for which Jack was perfect. Mercy would probably agree to anything at this point, but she would have huge regrets in the morning. That wasn't worth risking their special kind of friendship.

"Oh." Mercy peeled herself away reluctantly. "Okay. I get it."

"No, you don't." He retorted, briefly squeezing her lovely ass. "Remind me to bend you over my knee once we get together."

"Y… you promise?"

"Promise. I'll call you. Now, let me get someone to ride you home." He promised, throwing the finished cigarette over the railing.

\---

Ana was already cleaning the bottles and dishes. It was plain that the event was over. Typical Halloween party scenario - first the official lighthearted 'spooky' part, then the fuckfests in private.

Ana and Reinhardt were obviously staying for that, so they were out of the equation. He didn't trust Jesse to drive the doctor home. Not that the runt would pose her any threat. It's just that McCree would not be able to say no to her pretty face and would drop his breeches the moment she asked. And it was guaranteed Mercy would ask.

Torb? No, the violent sounds of a stomach being emptied coming from the bathroom (followed by Rein's laughter) suggested he needed more help than Mercy.

"Hey, Oxton." He called out, seeing the perfect victim. "Come here for a sec."

"Sure, love." Lena said unsuspectingly, as she came closer.

"Party's over." He declared sternly. "Time to go."

"I noticed." She agreed saddened. She didn't even get a chance to grab a drink. 

"Here's some cash." Reyes offered, pulling a wad of bills from his inner pocket and stuffing a few in her hand. "Get a cab, take the doctor home." He paused, noticing the way Tracer sulked. "Here's something extra. Take yourself to a bar, night's still young."

"You don't have to." Tracer tried to protest.

"Just take Angela home safely and treat yourself with the change." Gabe cut the conversation short, in a tone that ended all opposition.

"You got it!" She swore, tucking the cash somewhere under the Big Ben costume. "You know, that is really sweet of you. You're a real dear!"

Hearing that Reyes leaned over, in all his bulky, intimidating glory. He smiled in a way that pronounced a scar he had on his lover lip, which made Lena's stomach tighten.

"Go ahead." He dared. "Tell them. No one will ever believe you. Just remember… I know where you live."

"Scary!" Tracer squeaked, hopping to the balcony door.

\---

"Ok, let's get going."

"Change of plans." Morrison sighed, finishing his last beer.

"What?" Gabriel's brow rose. Did someone else…?!

"Hi boss!" McCree appeared form behind Morrison. "You took your sweet time playing gentleman, so I had to step in and sweep the commander off his feet."

"You're fucking me, right?" Gabe grunted more surprised than angered by such insolence. 

"Sadly, not tonight." Jack shrug his shoulders, savoring the moment.

"Let's go, daddy!" Jesse ushered, pulling Jack out of the kitchen, getting into his boyish and spoiled power bottom persona. "See you tomorrow, boss!"

And it was at that moment, when he was all alone in the kitchen, that Gabriel knew - he played himself.


	2. Afterparty

"I really appreciate you taking me back home." Angela thanked on their way to her place.

"Sure thing!" Tracer tried to act as cheerfully as she could, looking out of the cab's window. But in truth, she wasn't feeling the Halloween spirit anymore.

"Did you like the party?" Mercy asked, too drunk to register that Tracer arrived at the very ending.

"It was fun." Lena assured mechanically, not bothering with correcting her friend. "Too bad Winston couldn't come."

"Neither could Genji." 

"We're here." The driver cut in, parking in front of Angela's apartment building.

"I got this." Lena assured, fishing out a few crumpled bills from under her costume. "No, really. It's fine." She emphasized, just as Mercy was about to protest. "You'll pay for lunch next time or something." 

"At least come up for… uh… tea." Angela offered, avoiding the topic of alcohol. She had enough for tonight. "Unless you want to head home?"

"No, no! I'd love to!" Lena accepted the offer with relief. 

\---

Mercy's place was nice. Bright, welcoming and cozy. Not in the way carefully stylized furniture catalogues show you - it had genuine character. And her couch was incredibly comfy, Lena was sinking into the cushions, sipping on tea.

"I hope I wasn't too much of a burden." Angela mused, drinking hers, growing embarrassed of how sappy she was just 30 minutes ago. "

"You're never a burden, love!" Tracer assured, leaning to sling her arm over her friend's shoulder. 

Unfortunately she put too much energy in the gesture, her chronal accelerator painfully hit Mercy's side. The doctor motioned away with a pained wheeze, her teacup slipped of her lap, hot tea spilled on her pristine cream rug.

"Scheiße!" Angela cursed, jolting to the kitchen. 

Tracer was already ahead of her, blinking out of the room, reappearing a split second later - out of costume (now wearing only leggins and a tank top) and on her knees, working on getting the stain out.

"S-sorry." She uttered, energetically rubbing the spill with a paper towel.

"No harm done." Ziegler assured, squatting next to her. "You didn't meant it."

The silence that followed was long enough to get uncomfortable.

"I think that's enough." Angela said in a comforting tone. "You'll make a hole soon."

Tracer hung her head, her shoulders trembled. She leaned back, supporting herself against the couch, hiding her face between her knees.

"I hate this stupid thing." She confessed, pointing at the harness she had to wear around her chest at all times. "It's ruining my life. I was late to the party, because no matter what I wore, it was always showing. It was either the stupid Big Ben costume or that puppy onesie I wore last year."

"Lena…"

"I can't even relax around my friends. This piece of rubbish always gets in the way." Her voice broke down and Tracer launched into a full cry.

Mercy perched at her side, unsure what to do. She was still pretty drunk… and horny… But her friend needed help. Silently, she motioned closer, their shoulders touched. As if waiting for a signal, Lena leaned on her, literally crying on Mercy's shoulder, until she felt weak, resting on the doctor's lap.

"This whole evening was a disaster." Oxton sighed, rolling to her back, still resting her head on Ziegler's lap. "I had a wardrobe crisis. I arrived at the very end. I didn't even get a drink. I ruined your carpet. And now I just want to go home…"

"You can stay the night if you want." Mercy offered, stroking her friend's hair. "I don't want either of us to be alone tonight."

Tracer was no fool. Angela was offering something more than friendly hospitality. Without unnecessary ado, she raised up to kiss the doctor. Mercy cupped her friends head as their lips gently tested each other, before parting for a taste.

Angela tasted of that spiked pumpkin punch - mellow, with a surprise spicy kick. Tracer indulged, embracing the doctor greedily. With soft sights and muffled moans they began undressing each other, shifting to lay down.

Mercy ran her hand down Lena's side. Tracer was the embodiment of perky - long slim limbs, small yet bouncy breasts and a firm ass. The harness spoiled the view, but it was a necessity to keep it on.

"Uh… If I knew you'd fancy a shag, I'd prepare." Lena twitched nervously when the doctor slid down her panties, bringing into light a dark bush.

"Don't be absurd. I like you just the way you are." With that, Angela spread Lena's legs and dug in.

The hairs were soft, but not as soft as the flesh underneath. Mercy slid her tongue from the already wet opening to the hardening clit, then stuck her fingers inside, sucking hard on the throbbing nub. Tracer dug her fingers into the rug, while Angela's worked her pussy like a professional.

"Y… your anatomy lessons paid off." She tried to mask with a joke how she was melting in the doctor's tender grasp.

"My years of experience with other women paid off." Mercy smugly retorted, slipping another finger inside Lena's tight pussy, then curling it to find the G-spot. "Works every time." She smiled, seeing Tracer tense and arch her back as she kept teasing the sensitive spot inside her.

The doctor shifted her position, still fingering the pilot. She leaned forward to suckle on one of Tracers hard nipples, then unexpectedly bit into it.

"Aaah… Love, you shouldn't be doing that." Lena protested weakly.

"Why? something's wrong?" Her friend asked concerned, blowing on the sore nipple.

"I'll come too soon!" She giggled, heaving. "I want to do you too."

"Just enjoy yourself and then we'll focus on me. I have an idea how we can pick up after you're…" She looked up to meet with Tracer's gaze. "… done." She emphasized, spreading her fingers wide, then thrusting rapidly. 

That was too much for the pilot to bear. She tossed, bending her legs like a kitten rolled on its back. Her laughter fell into a moan and Tracer came with Mercy's loving assistance. For a moment everything seemed muffled and distant, the only thing real was the heat in her abdomen and pounding in her chest. She sighed with relief after regaining her composure, though her womb was still rhythmically convulsing. Her eyes were still closed - she wanted to savor this moment.

Something obstructed the light. When Tracer looked up she saw that Mercy straddled herself above her face - the doctor smooth pussy was just above her lips. Not needing any further incentive, Lena got a hold of her hips, her tongue drilled into Mercy's overflowing vagina.

"Best. Halloween. Ever!" She thought, pulling Mercy closer, for a deeper taste.


	3. Morning After

Next morning Reyes woke up the in his apartment alone, blueballed and hungover. Semiconsciously, he reached for a glass of water and seltzer he left for himself on the nightstand the evening prior.

"And a good morning to you, babe." He addressed his costume's pumpkin head resting on the window still. Unsurprisingly, there was no answer. 

His phone vibrated with a subtle chime - someone sent him a text. Reluctantly, he reached for the device to open the mystery message.

It was a photo of two cocks, fully erect, pressing against each other, both glistening with precum. He needn't see the faces to determine who were the owners of said cocks, he knew their shapes and colors well. McCree and Morrison. Those motherfuckers. To make things even more insulting, the picture came with a text at the bottom - "Wish you we're here, boss." 

"Sons of…!" Before he could finish the profanity-strung sentence, he got a second message.

It was another photo, but this time with faces - Tracer posing for a selfie next to sleeping Mercy. They were in the doctor's bed - he'd recognize those Egyptian cotton sheets anywhere. Oxton had a wide grin on her face, and just like McCree she included a short message with her photo - "Thanks for the taxi money, love!"

Reyes locked his phone and put it aside surprisingly gently. He pressed his palms together as if he were praying and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He opened them after a longer pause, now knowing what he must do.

"I have to destroy Overwatch." He said to himself in a tone both tranquil and full of purpose.


End file.
